


Her Plus One

by Kiltedsquirrel



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, FBI Ball, Humor, Plot, Season/Series 11 Speculation, Sexual Content, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-22 12:13:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13166679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiltedsquirrel/pseuds/Kiltedsquirrel
Summary: Family angst in formal wear.S11 era Ballfic





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress. I'm still concluding the final chapter and making small edits where necessary.
> 
> No real spoilers for S11 as I haven't seen anything and don't know much. 
> 
> Paying homage here to the first fanfic I ever read. At 14 it cast a "spell" over me.  
> Spell by Kelli Rocherolle.

It felt strange being there without him, disloyal somehow. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea...," Scully admitted to her date. She started to hang back in the foyer and was toying with her soft curls. Music from the ballroom wafted out to greet them along with the shadow of old memories.

It was like waiting on a fairground ride to start. The security bar had lowered and it was plain she was too little to ride safely. All she had was big brother Bill in his letterman jacket to keep her from falling out.

She fondled her gold chain for a second time.

"I'm here," handled her date sensitively. He wasn't accustomed to seeing this side of her. "You really have had some bad federal ball experiences."

Scully nodded with a faraway look. "One year Mulder called in a hoax bomb threat so he wouldn't have to attend," she told him.

"Yikes. Bet that went down well."

She sighed. "He made the call from my phone extension. Skinner hit the roof. Kimberly had to arrange an emergency puppy-therapy session to help regulate his palpitations." Her hand absently massaged her bare shoulder. "Luckily the only device Mulder was ever dangerous with was a pager."

Long fingers gently pinched her cross. She let him stand close, watched him linger, and couldn't help but smile a little. She was guessing that he wanted to shift the conversation. Whether it was for his benefit or her own, she couldn't tell.

"You look a million dollars. Better even."

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Mm. With you I mean it every time."

Her date had a healthy leanness with a little bulk around his shoulders. He pulled regularly at his tux, not because he was self-conscious, but because it was borrowed and fitted poorly in places. Nevertheless, he carried himself with confidence and his clever eyes drank in everything around them.

Scully in a garnet coloured gown looked effortlessly beautiful. The fabric clung around her curves and there were enough rhinestones to draw the eye to those special places without the dress appearing too showy.

The annual Bureau ball appeared to be in full swing. The venue was familiar to her and was a popular choice for these exclusive events. 

Skinner with a row of past assistants on each arm looked like a motherfucking badass. He carried an unlit cigar in the corner of his mouth and his flushed face was full of life. His tux was white and so were the remnants of his hair.

"Good evening," he greeted as he met the couple. He looked surprised by Scully's choice of chaperone and his face sobered into concern. "I wasn't expecting to see you here...." His words were friendly but there were silent questions attached. His eyes cast around for Mulder. When it was obvious Mulder wasn’t in their company, Skinner's scrutiny returned to her escort. He gave him a doubting look. 

"A bad penny always turns up," the date smirked before Skinner could pass comment himself. "Fox bailed. If that's who you're looking for?"

Both men paused to study one another. Each frowned for their own reasons.

"You're supposed to smoke it, not chew it." Another smirk. A cocky little chin thrust. It was a dig that Skinner was losing his cool.

Skinner tried talking directly to Scully but his entourage was quickly drowning him out.

"Dana, Hi!" whooped Holly who had made an early start on the gin cocktails. She was arm-in-arm with Skinner and Arlene.

"Call me sometime!" shouted an overly friendly Yi Ling from Skinner's other side. "You can tell me all about that elixir. Does it come in a lotion?" She then whispered something to Kim whose arm she was also linked to.

"Is it greasy?" queried Kim. "Did they say how effective it was on neck folds?" she added in a conspiratorial tone.

Scully frowned. Their enthusiasm and questions were out of the ordinary and she was at a loss on how to respond. Over the years, she'd trampled defiantly across each and every one of them to bust up meetings. The X-Files had wreaked havoc on Skinner's schedules and paperwork which must have given these women many a migraine. She couldn't fathom their patience for her never mind their interest.

Fortunately her date stepped in to applaud all women on their beautiful evening gowns. He knew every name. However "that up-do really suits you, Yi Ling" and "Arlene, what a fantastic shade" made Scully feel uncomfortable. True, he was being polite and kind, and these were admirable qualities, but his silver tongue and ability to charm women made her uneasy. She needed so much to believe in him.

"You're still me number one lady," he grinned to her once Skinner and his shoal of secretaries had moved on. He had a cracking smile and it melted any negativity. She took up his arm happily and let him lead them into the ballroom.


	2. Chapter 2

When they danced, nothing else really seemed to matter. His touches were few but tender. He didn't say a lot.

"People keep looking over at us," said Scully after a while. She and Mulder had always been the fly in the stew at these events. Heads would spin like swivel chairs to peer and pry and judge. She couldn't feel too harshly towards Mulder for wanting to keep his distance. She sighed, and not for the first time wondered where he might be.

"They're staring because you look divine, Dana." Most men couldn't have pulled off the line, but her date was no ordinary guy. She smiled, determined to enjoy the present for the powerful moment it was.

But all of a sudden a ruckus arose from the other side of the room. Their smiles snapped off, it seemed serious. There were exclamations from several sources and the noise of hurrying feet. It was no ordinary fracas.

"Stay with me!" He already knew where the nearest emergency exit lay and was trying to steer them towards it.

Scully on the other hand needed to discover what was going on and was tugging in the opposite direction. "Someone might need medical attention," she told him impatiently.

"I don't care." He pulled hard on her elbow.

She managed to disentangle herself anyway, and with that Scully air of being able to handle anything, waded into the scene of the problem.

"There's something out there!" A woman was shrieking. "Some sort of... animal." She'd lost the color from her face and her eyes were hunting all around as if the mystery beast might reappear at any moment.

"I saw it too," a young waiter was telling people. He was lean, very tall and definitely capable looking. The tray he carried was shaking. "An animal but it was moving on two legs... like a m-m-m..."

"There it goes again!" yelled a man standing closer to the window. "Out in the gardens, didn't you see it?!" he asked his partner.

"It's-it's...green," spoke up someone else.

Overhead lights came on one row at a time like a Mexican wave. Everyone on the dance floor blinked under the new brightness and muttered. The band stopped playing and the members shrugged amongst themselves.

Male hands dropped from the pretty necks and knees of their dates.

"Is the bar still open?" shouted a cherry-faced man with a large gut.

Scully manoeuvred herself to the front of the crowd. Several people, on hearing the description of a green colored animal trespassing in the grounds, were already vacating the space anyway, and so no one complained as her shoulders squeezed past. From the outbursts, Scully was quickly forming an impression of the creature. 

The witnesses were still agreeing on details between themselves. One was adamant the beast was covered in green fur while another claimed it looked like green slime. The name 'Goozilla' had been coined. 

Loudmouth skeptics appeared to heckle the bystanders and squabbles broke out. "Sir you're not helping the situation," said Scully critically to one. She felt it her role to help calm the commotion. "Please get these people a glass of water," she asked of a waitress. She asked another man to fetch some chairs. Scully frowned as she eased one woman into a seat. The description of the so-called 'Goozilla' felt uncomfortably familiar to her and just for a moment, an awful thought popped into her head. But she pushed it out, refusing to open herself up to any more disappointment. 

A few minutes later the unidentified creature made a further appearance. It was again met with a series of screams, but also laughter. 

"Hey, it's wearing Converse!" A few people chorussed. 

"A sasquatch in sneakers!" sneered someone loud enough for everyone to hear.

Scully touched fingers to her temple and looked away. Again, she was feeling disturbed by the presence of this questionable character. She knew Mulder had once owned a bizarre suit which he used on private monster hunts, claiming he needed to have all resources at his disposal. She tried to shake away the idea that he might have something to do with this strange occurrence. 

The bulk of onlookers reasoned that college kids were responsible. Most found humor in the disruption although a few felt indignant or embarrassed. 

"Of course, I suspected so all along," announced one back-pedaling witness. 

Scully overheard a team of guys laughing it out. "Maybe put in a call to that crack-brained supernatural unit. What's it called? Ah, yes! The X-Files." 

It was astounding the rate at which people slipped back into the evening. It was as if they were returning to a comfortable sleep. The band resumed playing, the guitarist strumming a song as the room glittered once more with a thousand tiny beams of light. A few spectators still chuckled or cursed but for most the moony smiles had returned to their faces.

Scully remained distracted for the first couple of songs but gradually she too put it out of her mind. After all, there was every likelihood that Mulder was hundreds of miles away. It was paranoid of her to think he could be involved in such unsavory, excessive behavior. It was true he owned a pair of Converse trainers, but so did a lot of people. She gave tiny tugs of her necklace. 

Her date whispered jokes in her ear to help her relax. "What's the difference between snowmen and snowwomen? Snowballs." She rolled her eyes but secretly adored it. Both his cheeks popped dimples. "Too low-brow? Ok, why can't you trust an atom? Because they make up literally everything," he grinned. At last she was finding enjoyment in the evening again.

The next thing she knew, the Chihuahua-eyed Holly was scurrying towards them. "Sorry to interrupt but Agent Mulder is outside." She gave Scully an apologetic smile; one that quietly communicated Mulder was causing a scene. "Security says he's acting agitated," she said with worried brows. "Also they're not letting him in without a jacket."

Scully released a long breath but tried to appear unruffled. She thanked Holly for her help and discretion, and passed on compliments as the woman left, even wishing her an enjoyable night. However her smile was pulled awkwardly and it was hard to disguise her sudden low spirits. Her thoughts were pulling in a lot of different directions.

"I hope he's not...," her words trailed as she glanced at her date.

"Drunk? With another woman? Off his meds? Wearing a propeller hat?" he provided.

Taken aback by his negativity and bitterness, she gulped for a little air. "Please don't. Not from you." Her eyes implored the best they could but the harsh look on his features didn't budge.

"Let me deal with this," he said in a take-charge voice and stalked off purposefully.

Scully stood alone on the dance floor watching spots of light cross back and forth over her shoes. She glanced around, feeling like she was being observed but no one would hold her gaze. The ball wasn't going as hoped. Was this only fitting given her personal tradition for failed social events? Scully sighed and gave a rueful look at the blissful couples swaying past her.

"I was hoping for a dance?" said a man's voice suddenly into her face. He shuffled his hips to better illustrate his request. "Dance," he repeated loudly and smiled too broadly.

She recognised him as Agent Gilmour Povey from the Bureau's science-crime lab. He was wearing a lot of hair gel, a novelty tie featuring atoms, and smelled rather like sushi. Scully tried to make her excuses but it was tough getting a word in.

Povey had brought his neighbor as his date - Stacey or Tracey - Scully couldn't catch which. What was abundantly clear was that she'd since abandoned him for Agent MacCabe - a brawny, kilted man who was now teasing her hair on the dance floor.

"I gave her a corsage but I guess she lost it." Povey was looking about the floor. He even checked the bottom of his shoes.

"Maybe she was allergic," suggested Scully instead. Povey smiled. He seemed to like this logical explanation. 

She accepted his offer to dance. Perhaps something about him reminded her of Agent Pendrell. Or maybe she wanted a moment to feel part of the ball and to know how it felt to dance carefree among those happy numbers.

"Mom and me have been taking evening classes."

"It shows," Scully said with encouragement. Her smile opened up suddenly with sincerity and warmth. "Your mom must really appreciate that."

Povey spun her around. 

"Gee I hope your 'plus one' doesn't come back and smack me in the jaw!" he guffawed. 

It was intended as a joke, but Scully stiffened. It was exactly something her so-called 'plus one' would do. She looked sharply over her shoulder, half expecting her date to be hurtling towards poor Gilmour Povey already.

"I actually better go check on where..." She didn't finish but broke apart from Povey and offered him a kind, regretful smile.


	3. Chapter 3

"So you stole my tux, my car and my date," listed off Fox Mulder as he emerged from the shadows of a hedgerow. Despite being dressed inappropriately simple, he was straight shouldered and sure of himself. Even in the dark his enduring good looks were still discernible. The moonlight picked out his strong jaw, intense eye lock, and the rebellious jeans and t-shirt combo on his well-maintained physique. He chewed on a sunflower seed and gave the person wearing his suit a steady look. "You're her 'plus one'? Well thanks for keeping my spot open for me. Not quite my successor yet."

The comment went unanswered, the silence drawing out and sparking something in the atmosphere. Some bugs flew off.

Mulder squinted. "Didn't I already ground you until college, William?" he asked dryly. He wore a half-smile but his eyebrows remained low.

William stared back with an intensity about his face that Mulder wasn't expecting. His unblinking eyes were the color of old copper coins. Those coins had seen a lot, been passed about, dropped, lost, and tarnished. The shine was long gone. He assumed wearing a tuxedo would have aged the boy too, but to Mulder he appeared younger than ever. Whereas some people might have seen suave and confidence, Mulder spotted insecurity. It got him wondering if William was out of his depth over something. He looked like he'd been handed a baton in a relay race but didn't know what to do with it.

"You ok?" Mulder asked in a far softer tone. He wanted to take a step closer but hesitated when no response came. "Where's Scully?" he prompted. He shot glances at the people standing nearby. Most were speaking on their phones, making the usual pledges to be home at a respectable time. A young male agent was attempting to impress a colleague by mislabelling the night stars for her. Then there were a couple of suits with dull, generic appearance that didn't quite fit the picture. Their presence itched Mulder's paranoia and tiny hairs rose on the back of his neck. He suspected it was the standard, production-line flunkies sent to monitor him and God knows who else. It was understood Skinner was being watched. He snatched an edge of William's sleeve to manoeuvre them around a corner.

"Watch it! Get off!" The boy's hands sprung out to shove him away.

"What's gotten into you?" Mulder frowned but William's hands only lashed out again. There was a chaotic moment where they tussled in the shadows, some back-and-forth as their arms and shoulders collided, but it stopped almost as quickly as it started. Mulder, who was bench pressing more weight these days, had the upper body advantage and took control quickly. On top of his training and experience, he could easily handle butting heads with an unruly teen. William was coltish and callow, but Mulder wasn't naive, the boy had a truckload of testosterone and in a couple of years would be capable of putting him into a wall.

William was panting, Mulder wasn't.

"Breathe," Mulder reminded. He dropped his hands flat to his sides and gave him as much space as possible. He didn't antagonize, sneer, or assert power. He didn't linger over some false victory. Diplomacy, dialogue and sensitivity were already yielding him good results.

He was familiar with William's aggressive outbursts. At least a dozen violent rows had passed between them. Lately however, Mulder had seen an improvement in his behavior, which made this latest display all the more concerning.

He reminded him of a jack in the box - a latched, closed up boy whose thoughts turned like a crank. He was lonely and charming. He was timeless and startling. He was hide and pounce.

His heart was in the right place. His fists usually weren't.

"Talk to me...," said Mulder.

"Fuck you."

"Try," he asked.

"Fuck you!"

Mulder took a breath and waited.

"You can be a condescending piece of shit, you know that? Acting like I'm the one with the problem?" blasted William. "You think I don't know? You think I don't hear things?" He spoke fiercely, his words breaking around Mulder like shards of glass. "Reason you're gone so much is 'cause of that old broad with the dried up pussy."

Mulder's whole face tensed.

"Bewitched for table crumbs of truth...or a quick wristy?"

"Don't talk like that," said Mulder, his voice raising at the end.

William spat on the ground. "She take her teeth out before giving you head?"

Mulder grimaced immediately. "That's out of line, Will!"

"For dinero then? Plata? What do you need with that kind of money? Cause you sure ain't saving up for a fucking ring." His eyes were wounded and one looked like it wanted to water. He stepped into some thicker shadows wanting to conceal himself better. His shouts got louder. More expletives were spewed out.

"Don't talk about women that way," Mulder guided, even though he mostly thought William was right. "I was the one who got involved."

"You're defending her?!" The anger - the fighting sound - was fading from his voice. His fingers uncurled from fists. He looked so let down.

"Scully trusts me," Mulder answered instead. "And so should you. Besides I think if you had anything concrete you'd have sucker punched me before now. Am I right?"

William looked miserable.

Mulder's head tilted. "Hey...," he murmured and gently placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. It was quaking. "You know I'm working two jobs," he sighed. "Two jobs, two cell-phones, and two bosses - one of who wants me to perform duties way beyond the general functions of the job." He sighed again. "And I can't believe I'm saying this...," he chuckled ironically to himself, "...but life would be a whole lot easier if it was Skinner advancing on my ass. Sexual harassment laws don't really hold when you're a double-agent on secondment with the Syndicate." He pulled a tight smile.

William was letting out a couple of breaths and thumbing the corner of one eye. Mulder could tell he was all over the place. He never wanted him burdened with any of this and felt a fresh burst of guilt. He was still a young teen. He didn't sit on any piece of furniture correctly. He'd changed Mulder's ringtone to the theme from Police Academy. Standard crockery was insufficient to him and so he munched cereal from a pan using a wooden spoon. Fast food served with a toy still piqued his interest. He believed he could pick up most skills from watching instructional videos on YouTube, even back flips. His favorite movie was Beetlejuice and Mulder was so far unsuccessful in getting him to say the name three times, "Fox, I said I wanted to watch Beetlejuice. Why can't you hear me? Beetlejuice. BEE...no, no. You got nothin'. Extra butter on mine." Tall and long limbed, he'd recently covered Mulder's basketball hoop with plastic food wrap. His shot sabotaged, Mulder had stared in disbelief as the ball sat in curious suspension. William's mouth was rippled in dimples for a good half hour.

He had these old eyes, but not in the sense that they appeared wise, rather cynical and world-weary. Brown coins stuck at the bottom of a wishing well. None of the dreams had come true.

"If it makes you feel any better, I suspect she's one of those female creatures who devour their male partners after mating," said Mulder with a smile and nudge.

Dimples flickered but he didn't look Mulder's way.

"Look...," he tried again. His voice was low, personal. "I'm not sleeping with anyone else, ok?"

William nodded once, biting his lower lip.

Being accountable to a third party like this was unfamiliar to him. Normally any outsider was brutally rebuffed for trying to weigh in on his relationship with Scully, Skinner in particular. No one was allowed to get in the middle of their personal affairs. William of course had to be the exception. He'd commented so the very first week they'd met, "don't tell me to keep out of your business. I came outta that fucking business. Bet you did it on government time too. Fucking Feds." The spud had a point.

Having him around presented an entirely new dynamic from which to work. Mulder accepted it gladly, but it was like trying to solve a Rubix cube after someone had scrambled and re-glued the dots. In short, it was colorful and painstaking. Gaining an insta-teen felt a lot like jetlag. Mulder was still experiencing the textbook symptoms: sleeplessness, fatigue, headaches, disorientation and indigestion. He'd try to score a kiss with Scully but William would make a noise like a bee buzzing and throw his whole game off. It was a transition all right.

William looked at him. "If this is because of me...if you're involved in this because of me...then please stop. I hate it."

It was dreadful to watch him plead and stammer and turn his head all about the place. It was made worse since he was doing it so damn quietly, like he was embarrassed to be hurting.

"I don't have a choice, Will."

"Then let's go away. Disappear. Those places you talk about - the beaches, with the quiet sand and noisy waves. I think about it all the time."

So did Mulder. "I'm working on it," he told him gently while his heart punched inside his chest.

"But when I dream...the only sand I see is trapped with me inside a gargantuan hourglass. What does it mean?"

He was wearing the same look as earlier in their conversation - like he was clutching a baton but didn't know what direction to bolt in.

Mulder frowned and squinted. "William, has anyone tried to talk to you? Approached you about anything?" Mulder's tongue skidded over his dry lips. "If someone wanted to involve you in... matters... you'd tell us... wouldn't you?"

There was a long pause. The sound of the wind in the leaves. He squinted again, trying to gauge William's face in the dark.

His throat was opening up like he wanted to say something.

But when he heard a voice, it wasn't his. "Mulder?" Scully called. And his focus on Will went down the sink hole.


	4. Chapter 4

She left Agent Povey snapping his fingers to himself and having a solitary jive on the dance floor. Two women in glitzy black dresses passed looks over Scully as she walked by. Their voices dropped to deliberate whispers and her cheeks warmed as she distinctly heard, "that's her, the one I was telling you about." Scully carried on nonchalantly, her mind on greater things than her pride.

The night air was fresh and fragrant with the scent of nearby foliage and floral baskets. She breathed deeply and steadied herself on a wrought iron handrail. From the stone staircase she scanned the area without difficulty. Almost at once she was able to pick out Mulder and William who were both tall, dark and broad shouldered. They were only half-obscured, part hidden under the stairwell and by vegetation shadow. Mulder was almost in touching distance. She manoeuvred a little closer and canted her head over the railing. "Mulder," she called and it wasn't even loud. Still, his eyes shot to hers in a second. She could see all prior thought was rapidly shrinking away like dreams at daybreak. He looked immediately glad to see her and warmth passed through his gaze. While Scully was experiencing a complex mesh of feelings, she couldn't deny it felt incredible to see him too. 

She continued down the steps, rounding the railings and veered off to where Mulder and William were waiting.

Scully wanted to roll her eyes when she saw what he was wearing. It looked like Mulder had tried his hardest to not try. He could easily have organized more suitable, alternative attire. He had suitcases and wardrobes stuffed with lounge suits and blazers. There was a whole box of jazzy ties in one cupboard marked 'ties from Bill's kids' for him to access. Instead he was in denims, a white tee and dirty tennis shoes. Gritty stubble and winsome eyes completed the look. However, his soft, sinful lips and loving stare wore down some of her hostility. 

"Everything ok?" she greeted, sensing something amiss in the atmosphere between them. 

"Everything's fine," said Mulder, appearing to answer for both himself and William. He gave her dress a smile.

"Sweetheart?" she prompted, giving her son a gentle look.

William's shirt was untucked. He'd rolled up his jacket sleeves and was trying to control his hair by trapping long strands behind his ears.

"Like he said," he agreed with a reluctant nod. "Fine."

Scully nipped her bottom lip. A garden ornament of a cherub lay crumbling beside the boy. It looked like it had been smashed by someone's angry foot.

Her attention moved back to Mulder, hoping he might provide her with better insight. Instead, something caught her eye. She gave him a careful frown and cleared her throat. "It's not raining," she told him.

Mulder nodded slowly, unaware of the relevance of this observation, but conscious that Scully wasn't one to waste words. He hadn't returned her last three phone calls and looked mildly relieved that he wasn't being immediately lambasted for that.

On tip-toes, she leaned inwards to better access him. He didn't understand at first and assumed incorrectly that Scully was embracing him. One strong arm quickly hooked her waist and he dropped a keen kiss against her cheek. Her body tautened and cleavage swelled as she stretched and pushed closer to him. Delight lit up his eyes. "I've missed you," he whispered into her hair.

Scully, however, ignored his reactions as she was far more intent on peeling something leaf-like from his damp hair. 

"Mulder..." She was shrewdly inspecting the flora in her hand and again her eyes appraised his soiled shoes. Unknown to Mulder, the suspicions she'd tried to squash earlier during the 'Goozilla' capers were resurfacing. 

She held up the drippy plant life between pinched fingers for him to see.

"Mulder, it would appear the guests tonight were privy to their own 'creature feature' live show." 

"Y-You're kidding?" 

Scully gave him a hard, enquiring look as his adam's apple bobbed about his throat.

"And here you are - skipper of all things spooky - mysteriously emerging with sludge on your shoes and water weeds in your hair.  It doesn't take Columbo to arrive at a conclusion. And there is literally a ballroom full of elite investigators in there."

Mulder looked sheepish.

"Mulder, have you been out here trying to attract a mate?" asked Scully, unleashing her exasperation.

William, who had been looking puzzled, now made a choking sound.  
  
"You know what I'm talking about," she expanded. "You used to wear that God awful costume when attempting to lure a breeding partner." She consciously sniffed the air before  giving him a  sideways look. "Please tell me you didn't douse yourself in pheromones like two Christmases ago?"

Mulder was looking everywhere except her eyes. 

"Will, you want to give us a minute?" he requested, giving his best upright impression of a parent voice. 

"Hell no," the boy answered and Mulder gave him a quick glare. William popped a Pez and glared right back.

"Mulder, do you know how well some of these people can shoot? There's a former Director still out there in the rose gardens with a sniper looking for you...and his wife thinks he missed his pills at brunch."  
  
"I did it for us, Scully." He defended, trying to put some honey into his voice.  
  
"How exactly?" she stormed. "Our professional peers think it was a juvenile prank."  
  
"For the X-Files," he said, delivering the words as he'd always done - with martyred conviction, full eyes and a sunflower seed on his tongue.  
  
"By removing any vestiges of credibility?" She was moistening her lips and shaking her head. "Making our work look like a side-show for people to point at?" She gave him a hurt look. "How do you expect our investigations to be taken seriously?" She was mystified as to why he would plot such a thing.  
  
"He doesn't want to be taken seriously...," said William with dawning comprehension. He'd been listening in to the conversation and now spoke up, looking carefully at Mulder as he did. "You want to be underestimated. Make them think your cord doesn't quite reach the outlet anymore."  
  
They both looked at their son who it seemed was capable of picking up a line of thought like it was a dropped stitch.

Mulder gave the faintest of nods. William was right.

Scully's look of antagonism softened as this new information settled. The suggestion that Mulder was sabotaging his reputation in order to carve out a new role was overwhelming. He wanted people to believe he was washed up when he was instead preparing a different path.  
  
"I'm done playing a pawn," he said.  
  
Slowly Scully reached out a hand for his. His face looked so heavy and tired that it gave her a feeling of grief. A gentle tear slipped out. Their fingers tangled while their eyes tried to make sense of what the other was thinking. 

Just then Mulder's cellphone vibrated loudly in his pocket signalling an incoming call. He froze. They all did. It wasn't his regular phone playing the stupid Police Academy intro, it was his direct line to Her.

"But apparently not quite done. You should answer that," Scully said in a cool voice and turned firmly away from him. She retreated up the staircase and disappeared into the flock of formal wear.

Mulder sighed hard. "I'm going to need my jacket," he said impatiently to William. "Guy on doors is an ass," he sulked. His phone was still buzzing sharply.

William glowered for a moment. His tongue flipped a Pez and it cracked on his canines. He pulled the tuxedo jacket roughly from himself and surrendered it back to Mulder. 

"He's not the only one behaving like an asshole." He gave Mulder a withering look. "And FYI, just so you know, you've tarnished my Bigfoot snowglobe now." The boy walked off with his white shirt tails flying.


	5. Chapter 5

William sat in a cloakroom drinking vodka from a lowball glass. Most of the coats were black which suited his sombre mood. There were shrugs that smelled of sweet perfume, coats with dandruff on the shoulders, and some carrying an odour of cigarette smoke. God he could do with a long drag. His mouth felt bored. Where was his candy at?

Twin girls entered to retrieve compacts from their matching coats. They were naturally pretty but a lot of it was lost behind a riot of make-up. Neither could walk particularly well in their beanstalk heels and their arms were linked together for physical support.

Victoria and Valentina DuNane - he knew their names because he'd always found it useful to learn names. People listened better when he could recall their name.

There was a sort of sweetness to them. He knew instinctively that they'd each done the other's make-up for the ball. He could see them in his mind's eye attempting to copy an on-trend look from the pages of a magazine. Apparently it was a good year for glitter gloss and metallic eye-shadow.

He'd spent so much of his life longing for parents that the desire for a sibling had felt less present. God he could do with a sibling these days. A sibling and a cigarette tonight would have been good.

"You're that...that X-Files boy," said the more vocal girl, Victoria. It was more of a taunt than an observation.

William kept right on drinking from his glass, minding his own business. His gel had dried out and his dark hair was starting to fall loose around his brown eyes and black eyelashes.

The girls waited, wanting a response, needing his attention.

"What is that?" Victoria was staring at the glass in his hand. "That's not even your drink. It has lipstick marks on the rim."

William shrugged. His thoughts were on more serious matters. "Maybe I like the taste of lipstick..."

"Spooky and scuzzy," she hissed to her twin.

His cheeks turned a little pink but he focused on crunching ice with his teeth. His strong jaw stretched and ground while tiny muscles around his mouth flexed and dimpled. Both girls looked at his lips. They didn't appear to like being ignored, especially by a guy whose mouth could advertise toothpaste.

Victoria's lips curled like a snake ready to attack. "Well our daddy says your daddy is a joke to the Bureau. He's been fired that many times it's a disgrace. A screw-up with a screw-loose."

William necked the rest of the alcohol which made him feel warm. He then began swallowing the remaining cubes of ice which made him feel cold. The girls watched his throat as it worked on swallowing the ice. It was red and taut. His eyes had stopped blinking. He was choking on something, but it wasn't the ice.

"I see," he said after a minute as he sat up a little straighter on the bench seat. His shoulders - two tight, solid shelves, looked like they could balance the weight of each girl's school books. "Your daddy is Deputy Director DuNane?"

They both gave smug nods. Finally they seemed to have snatched William's attention.

"Well you can tell your dad that we got us a mutual acquaintance - Alex Krycek," he said purposefully.

Victoria popped gum while Victoria snubbed, "never heard of him."

William smirked. "Well Alex sure knows him. Says your daddy cums like a little bitch."

"He's lying," gasped Victoria. "You're so weird," she told him.

"Horse's ass!" added Valentina.

"Well you'd both know - hanging around me like flies horny for my shit," tossed back William. He rose from his seat and in the tight space of the cloakroom appeared taller than ever. "Likes to wear your momma's red Gucci suede pumps at the same time..."

Valentina pulled on her sister's arm. "Mom's missing shoes...the ones she blamed us for losing."

"Apparently he's not much of a giver if you know what I mean," continued William. The girls were braless and he couldn't help but scoop an eyeful of their chests. It was like steamed Chinese dumplings were rolling around under there. He started to feel heat creeping up his neck and pinned the more outspoken twin with a look. "I'm a giver," he told her and his lips twitched. He waited a beat before turning his gaze on her sister. "And right now I got a two-for-one giveaway."

"You must be as crazy as your father," said Victoria but her insult was half-hearted and her cheeks also looked hot.

William asked her to quieten. "Let's see what the sexy twin has to say..." He gave an exaggerated smile in Valentina's direction.

"But we're identical!" complained Victoria at once and she started licking her lips and primping her hair.

Valentina looked thrilled.

As the three made their way towards the hotel elevators, Victoria - who'd done a complete 180 - gave William a shy look. "Is it true what people are saying - about your mom, I mean?"

William felt his shoulders and back stiffen like a board. There was nausea creeping into his gut. He really did not enjoy his parents being slandered. Remorseful of the things he'd said about their father, he'd already attempted an apology, but the girls had only shaken their heads. They recognized he'd been telling the truth. "Our parents are fucked up," they confided. He was grateful for them saying that.

"What-what do people say?" he asked, not wanting to appear rattled.

"Well is it true alien sorcerers gave your mom some sort of special beauty cream from like the future?"

A penny dropped for him. "Oh! That's why people keep staring over at my mother?"

"Does she still have their cellphone number?" asked Victoria.

"Do those guys run a blog?" asked Valentina.

William slipped an arm over each pair of shoulders. "Let's see about that elevator, shall we?"


	6. Chapter 6

In the lobby, William caught sight of Mulder. The boy blew out a breath. He whispered to the girls whose slender arms withdrew from his waist. 

His heart skipped faster as Mulder approached. He wished it wouldn't, it made him feel like a jittery little kid. There was a watchfulness about Mulder that made William feel both scrutinized and safeguarded. Mulder was confident and shuffled through the crowd like he was the strongest card in the deck. William could imagine a lot of people finding him aloof and arrogant. But that was because they didn't know how it felt to be favorited by him. Chosen. It was as empowering as it was humbling. The boy pulled at his chin. Mulder was capable of delivering the softest looks. It would melt Rottweilers. Receiving that level of affection and attention - from a man - put his feelings in a spin most days. He was handsy, but not in a pervy way. William didn't know how best to describe it but he liked the little gestures of contact. They were as gentle as a finger swiping across a touchscreen, although they always landed heavy in his heart. In short, he looked at William the same way he did his mother. It still choked the boy up. There was stuff he needed to talk to him about but he didn't know where to begin. He bit his teeth together and tried to behave indifferently.

"Haven't found her yet, have you?" William called to him while the twins winked and hopped onto an elevator. 

Mulder neared, shaking his head. He stuck a thumb behind him. "Skinner's in there with a conga-line of female assistants. I got tangled up like a dolphin." There were beads of sweat on his brow and neck. "He always was bossy on the dance floor."

"That Scully-sense not started tingling yet?" asked William. He thought they were a cool, quirky pair of quarks, however, figuring out their mechanics was nigh impossible. 

"It will," Mulder reassured.

"Do you even know what she's wearing?" tested William.

"Let me think," said Mulder, scrunching up his eyes. "It was green. Lots of fabric around the chest. Very long at the back. Matching headpiece--"

"That's what YOU were wearing tonight!" William had a temper that stalked back and forth like an animal behind cage bars. He was giving Mulder a very pissed off look.

Mulder chuckled. "I know. I know, ok? She's in red." His knuckles skimmed affectionately behind his son's neck and he watched him calm and stifle a smile.

The boy turned to Mulder, heaved a sigh then decided to throw him a life-line. "Don't tell her she's pretty or beautiful, ok? Say something different."

Mulder looked at him quizzically.

"Pretty women always hear that they're beautiful," he explained for him. "Ratchet up."

Mulder had the same look as when he tried to help William do maths homework.

"Fox she's been put together better than origami. She has the wild grace of a phoenix in that red dress. Find something special to say...no, don't use what I just said!" His temper was rattling at the bars again.

"This is why I'm an only child, isn't it?" William shook his head to himself. "You suck."  
  
"There was a bee. Besides, Scrappy-doo, I seemed to do all right the night you got brewed," Mulder bated playfully.  
  
"Yeah. Kudos on scoring seventeen years ago," he answered in a droll voice.  
  
They swapped smiles.

Mulder followed him into an empty elevator.  
  
"What? You're not going back in?" William asked, using a tone which was trying to sound casual, not surprised, and definitely not suspicious. He was hoping to catch up with the twins without delay or interruption. 

Mulder pressed a whole bunch of buttons on the panel. "Are you kidding? The band are on break. Despacito is about to play on a loop until nine and the Skinman has the lyrics prepared in Spanish on a series of prompt cards. He can't speak Spanish. But he's gonna try, Will. I gotta get Scully. She's owed this."  
  
"Yeah I know. He wanted me to hold up placard #5 for him," said William as he looked impatiently at all the brightly highlighted floor buttons. "You had to go hit all of them, didn't you?" He scratched the back of his head. It was going to double the time required to reach the girls. Deputy Director DuNane had a suite on the tenth floor and William was determined Mulder would be getting off long before then. He fussed with his shirt until it covered his waist.

Fortunately Mulder started looking distracted and spacey around floor two.

"Bingo?" William asked hopefully.

Mulder stepped out with a look of fresh resolve. He nodded to William and held the elevator up while he retrieved something from his jeans.

"I take American Express," William said with a cute look. 

A pile of sunflower seeds landed on his palm instead. Mulder grinned at his reaction and told him to beat it. "Go play," he instructed.

"Stop by home once and a while," called William as the elevator doors drew between them. Just for a second he flashed Mulder an affectionate look. He saw it register with Mulder and felt embarrassed by his lack of poker face. "Before I flush your viagra stash down the shitter...," he added, smirking over the last glimpse of Mulder's face.


	7. Chapter 7

The elevator made a clunky noise and disappeared.

"Teenagers...," Mulder muttered. "It's not even all the time," he appealed to the empty foyer.

There was a function room on the second floor which catered for smaller events. It was out of bounds now for renovation work and he passed signs and tape indicating not to enter. If military bases couldn't keep Fox Mulder out then some hazard cones and barricade tape wouldn't either. He stumbled on a cone.

Mulder leant on the open door with folded arms and played at being cool. "I'm here for the X-Files party?" he called across to Scully who was drifting about the deserted space. She didn't look surprised to see him.

"That would be a party for two," she said quietly although it managed to carry back to him.

He picked up on the lonely tone to her words. They weren't the copybook couple. "My kind of party," he answered. There was no place else he'd rather be and his smile showed her that. 

There was scaffolding and multiple sets of ladders in the room. Displaced furniture, towers of chairs and stacks of paint appeared randomly but much of the room was empty.  The lights were out but it wasn't completely dark. The drapes were gone from the windows and moonlight washed over the place. He closed both heavy doors and gave her a suggestive look. 

"That's us all here...unless we're anticipating the happy arrival of John Doggett and somehow I never am..."

She gave him a chastising smile before asking about William.

Mulder nodded. "Found some kids his own age."

He pulled her into a close hug and planted a kiss on her temple. His hot mouth lingered as he whispered her name, "Scully." She looked a little taken aback but a slow smile was erasing the creases around her brow.

They swayed together despite the silence. There was no music but they manufactured a rhythm from the memories of scratchy old songs and black-and-white moments from long ago. It was a door opening for them. A chance to connect, to seek comfort. 

The floor creaked below their feet.

Circumstances had put some distance between them lately. The X-Files had gone stale with fewer cases landing across the desk. Mulder even dumpster dived searching for discarded mysteries but everything was shredded. As the drought rolled on, they'd each been seconded to work in different host departments. Skinner remained evasive on the issue. It was clear someone somewhere wanted them kept on a tight leash. Mulder was done waiting for answers this time.  
  
"Or maybe people just don't believe in monsters anymore," lamented Mulder as they danced and talked.   
  
"Maybe every time someone says they don't believe in monsters, a monster somewhere drops down dead," she murmured into his shoulder.  
  
"A world without monsters?" He looked downcast at the thought of life without the 'other'.

The throb of music now reached them from the ballroom downstairs. It helped guide their steps and their bodies moved together with greater purpose. There was still a crosscurrent of emotion between them, but perhaps surprisingly, also the potential for passion. Mulder licked his lips. She was touching him back a lot more. 

"How is our 'Mrs Robinson' anyway? The Consortium's 'cougar' not found herself another inamorato yet?" Scully attempted a brave smile but the pain was all too clear.  
  
Mulder shook his head, honestly.  
  
Erika Price was a mature, confident woman who'd enjoyed the company of men all her adult life and wasn't about to give-up on orgasms simply because she was in her 60s. She'd taken a keen liking to Mulder and her manicured claws itched about him.  
  
"That woman...," Scully said, giving tiny shakes of her head, "...wants access to my son...," she looked Mulder in the chest and passed a palm down his form-fitting tshirt. "And she wants you in her bed." Her breathing was unsteady and so was her eye contact.  
  
He knew Scully wasn't jealous. Erika Price was a predator. Jealousy wasn't something to be felt when a wolf was outside the front door.

The first intimate question Ms Price put to him, in her deep and silky voice, concerned the absence of a wedding band. "You're not married, are you Fox?" she'd asked out of the blue one night. He'd looked around to discover everyone at the meeting had left and it was just the two of them. It wasn't unusual in itself for a new colleagues to small talk relationships, but someone with the power and reach of Erika Price would have known every inch of his circumstances. She was circling.  
  
"No ring," she commented, her eyes on his hands.  
  
She wasn't someone to be ignored or slighted.  
  
"No ring," he'd agreed. She waited for more information which he didn't care to provide. "My mother always wanted me to marry a doctor as well...," he quipped instead.  
  
"I've had two wedding rings and neither counted for very much in the end."  
  
He didn't know if this was true.  
  
"Is there someone, Fox?" She'd sought firm clarification.  
  
He nodded, his thoughts taken up with the memory of spice blue eyes and delicately arched brows.  
  
She watched his face closely. "Very much so, isn't there?"  
  
He'd nodded again.  
  
She hadn't wanted his answers, she'd wanted his reactions.  
  
Mulder took Scully closer to him. He exhaled, trying to banish a dozen difficult thoughts. Each one felt like a jail bar and for one night he wanted to break free. There was something he'd desired doing all evening and he couldn't wait any longer. Mulder bent his head and moved his lips closer to hers. The caresses of their mouths awoke a mine of memories. He couldn't recall what he ate for dinner the night before but he remembered a hundred things about kissing Scully. Memories of rowboats. Memories of visiting hometowns. Memories of skin. Memories of handcuffs. Memories of new years. Memories of old years. Memories of saying I love you. Memories of home.

Naturally he'd declined every one of Ms Price's approaches. He made it clear. He spelled it out. She'd slid jewelled fingers over his shoulder and made him one of her drivers.  
  
She lamented the lack of suitable men working for her. "Boys and baboons some of them" who were "too quick to lose their heads, their spine and their cum." Others were "infinitely old with withered genitals." She was intolerant to most colleagues, "the Chinese refuse to speak English and the Muslims won't drink." She'd poured Mulder a double vodka. "Really Fox, I'd go round the bend without you..." She had a big toothy smile and twinkling eyes. He trusted neither. "Come to Havana?" She creeped. "See Cuba before it all changes. Meet Fidel."  
  
"Castro died last year, ma'am."  
  
She'd laughed derisively and poured another shot. "Hah! You're cuter than booties, Fox. Now let's go fuck with Bitcoin."  
  
Scully drew him out of his ruminations. Her cheek was on his chest as they continued to dance. "Mulder...I...why do you smell like cigars?"

Mulder rubbed his forehead. "Another time, Scully. I promise."  
  
She passed him a look which communicated he was off the hook for the time being, but that she expected answers.

He kissed her again and this time urged for more. Their kisses escalated immediately. Neither pulled back. 

They edged themselves off the dance floor and to a secluded spot behind a lonely vertical piano. It was half-cloaked in a dust sheet and Mulder dropped his jacket over the top before finding position on the ground. With his back propped against the rear of the piano, he invited her onto his warm lap. "Private enough?" he whispered as their mouths met again. The presence of their restless bodies and the sounds of hot whispers and latched lips, disturbed some moths which took flight and winged about the room.  
  
A nearby grandfather clock lost under layers of paint sheets was ticking loudly. It's ticktock heartbeat was measured and mechanic unlike the suddenly speeding hearts of the two of them on the floor.  
  
Mulder's hands were on the hem of her dress and he was talking in her ear. His mouth dropped to her neck in the same moment that her dress was hitched to her waist.  
  
Moths fluttered. The clock ticked.

With little conscious thought, they started to have sex in that position. They'd fallen into it instinctively and it was only recognizable by the discarded belt and telltale piece of black underwear lying close by. Their bodies clung to each other and also to the shadows. Only moments of moonlight revealed the startling glimpses of her thighs, her rear, and of Mulder's under-the-belt hair. Trance-like, their faces brushed and lips touched. Her hands were under his tshirt while his eyes were on the cleavage spilling over her gown.  
  
He was solid and yet her movements were quickly turning fevered and unforgiving. "What are you doing?" he murmured and tried to steady the pace. Her fine jaw was kissed. "Scully?' But she took little notice and the rough joining continued. He felt a pang of pain, saw the same reflected in her, but she wouldn't look at him, wouldn't calm. The urgency was turning him on. It furrowed his features and made him groan.  
  
Her cross jumped along her collarbone. Dress straps dropped to her elbows. Mulder huffed out breath after breath as she landed faster and tighter on his crotch. Arousal lifted up higher inside him and like a balloon snagged on a branch, it pulled and tugged, wanting desperately to take off. As his body seesawed between gratification and unease, he tried again, "Scully...," he rasped with sweat standing out on his brow. She felt distant and there was an undertone of anger. He didn't need to ask why.  
  
His dick was getting the workout of its life but there was no ignoring the pinch of pain on her face, or the thought of him trying to piss the following day.  
  
"It really is a nice looking dress...," he muttered, his dry mouth only able to take a drink of air. The look which followed implied her gown wouldn't be staying in a presentable condition for much longer.  
  
Scully slowed and relented. Her chest was quaking with exertion and she couldn't find a breath to fire back a retort.  
  
Mulder helped them to their feet and they slipped out of a few more clothes while his heavy erection paused between them. The pile of garments on top of the piano grew. "Not every day the puck takes it to the hockey stick," he deadpanned. Her deft fingers slid down his sinewy forearms and stopped at his watch which was the only thing he was still wearing. "Is 'birthday suit' consistent with the dress code?" he asked with a sly smile.

"Oh I'd say it was a required condition for entry," she said, eyes on his pectorals.

Her bra was delicate. The same color as her dress. The pencil heels she wore were long and seductive. It made his erection pitch. He grabbed her hand, she didn't need to strip further. 

They adjusted into a more sensual rhythm on the floor, a stack of unused dust sheets dulling the noise of their movements. The fabric was tough and scrubbed at their bare bodies as they wound together. Mulder's bulging body was stretched out across her, in her, and his hips steered their pleasure. It was dark and sweaty as her fingers fanned over his warm, monochrome muscles.

Mulder felt a stiletto heel drag down his ass. She did it again. It traced designs on his skin which made him jerk. "Scully." The motions caused him to lose breath and grit his teeth. 

Then her foot froze suddenly like it had been stunned. It fluttered briefly in mid-air, the quivering dislodging her shoe which dropped with a thud to the floor. Her lashes rested on her roseate cheeks. When his panting softened he pulled off of her and they lay together. "We sure know how to throw a party," he grinned.

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Mulder caught hold of her hand as she raised her underwear over her knees. "Here, let me," he offered and slid it the rest of the way up. His fingers lingered.

He touched her chin and bent to start kissing her again.

"What do you expect...wearing red in front of a bull?" he defended with a smile.  
  
She shook her head and told him he was incorrigible.

He didn't even mind when his feet landed in soggy sneakers. His smile couldn't be suppressed even for a second. As he pulled on the tux jacket, he made up his mind to escort Scully back to the ball. He would dance with her and hold her tight, not parting until the final note of the last song. It would be the most successful Bureau ball of their careers.

For the first time that evening Mulder felt inside his jacket pockets. His brows quickly furrowed as he extracted a box of condoms from one.

"I have no recollection of ever buying these," he said in a low voice. He shook the box and checked the date. "Grape?" He screwed his face up into another frown.

Scully, pink-cheeked and toiling with a strap, just rolled her eyes. "I think the horse has already bolted on that one, Mulder. No point shutting the stable door now." She twitched her dress into position and fluffed her hair. "What?" she asked, seeing the frown still marring his handsome face.

"They're not mine," he blurted out. Scully shot him a serious look as he pointed out William had been wearing the jacket before him. She snatched up the packet, still hoping it was a poor joke. Mulder withdrew a retro Pez dispenser from a different pocket.

"See?" He held up William's childhood candy holder as supporting evidence.

It was a partial blow for both of them. William was still very young and had been through so much upheaval in his limited years. They didn't believe he had the emotional maturity to navigate sexual relationships. He could be so sensitive and vulnerable at times.

"Still," Scully reasoned, ever the clear-sighted medical doctor, "he's informed, he's taking the right precautions---"

"Grape?" Mulder repeated to her.

"He's stepping up and taking responsibility," carried on Scully. "It's-It's commendable really."

"Just one problem, Doc." Mulder waved the packet. "He hasn't got them."

Scully sighed. "We should talk to him about it."

"Well I saw him about an hour ago with DuNane's twin daughters," said Mulder shrugging. "He didn't look like he was up to much...Oh God."

"Mulder..."

"Scully..."

"I mean," she took a shuddery breath, "...how many times can a 16 year old boy experience unprotected intercourse in one hour?"

They both look terrified.

"It's Charlie all over again," she was muttering. "Mulder, I'm not ready to be a grandparent."

"Scully, we'll never be ready for two sets of twin grandbabies." Mulder paced. "Who does he think he is, tomcating around our FBI ball?!" He had his hands on his hips. 

"As opposed to sloping around the perimeter in a swamp thing costume?"

"I thought you liked my thing?"

"Not cute, Mulder."

Together they sped out of the hall.

 

**to be continued**

 


End file.
